I came across the quote below today and it hit me that I have been pulling back from life. So 2015 for me will be a year to identify and face my fears.

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“There are two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull back from life. When we are in love, we open to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement, and acceptance. We need to learn to love ourselves first, in all our glory and our imperfections. If we cannot love ourselves, we cannot fully open to our ability to love others or our potential to create. Evolution and all hopes for a better world rest in the fearlessness and open-hearted vision of people who embrace life.” ― John Lennon

(Please forgive me if the quote is not accurate. I typically like to check first before sharing, but today affords me no time.)

It’s becoming clearer to me that, as the years go by, I am becoming a more and more of a rare bird. Not that I’m saying I’m totally unique. There are other childless not by choice stepmoms out there, but it’s hard for us to find each other online, let alone flock together.

After receiving a second baby shower invitation yesterday – making it two baby showers scheduled for February – I tried to fight the sinking feeling that all, if not most, of my immediate social circle was now crossed over – not a one of them has any children over 6 years-old. The depression began to surface along with the realization that things will not be the same with any of these people again. Most get-togethers will be child-centric. All conversation will be child or mothering-focused. I wondered, just how the heck am I fitting into this picture anymore?

Here I am. No children of my own. With older stepchildren (23 and 17). (Let’s not even explore the fact that none of them can truly understand the complexities of the step relationship.) What have I got to add to this clambake? Can my heart even take being around all these “mommies”?

Don’t get me wrong. These are wonderful, sweet people and I love them, but the breadth of shared experience is shrinking between me and them, and I’m starting to feel less and less “in-place.”

“We need to find friends our age without kids,” I said to Hubs as I tossed the pink and brown invitation on the counter. Hubs sighed and nodded in agreement. The fact is, I’ve known that this has been coming for a while now, and I’ve searched in vain for a place to find people more like me. But a search for childless stepmoms on Meetup.com doesn’t exactly produce results.

So how do I find it? That place for me? A safe place to spread my wings and learn to grow and heal, so it’s not painful to be around all the moms? I guess this has become my mission for 2015. Wish me luck.

After a too long hiatus of sorts, I’m back on the blog. My life was thrown into chaos between health, family, and work that I had no time to devote to it. I’m trying to find the words to even describe everything I haven’t been able express in the time I haven’t been blogging. But I will say this, it’s pent up. I realized it after taking a long overdue (I’m talking years) visit to my massage therapist. I went to see him to address some neck pain I was experiencing and he was stunned at how tight my neck and shoulder muscles were. It took him 45 minutes to even loosen the muscles before even wanted to touch my neck. “All the thoughts that are unexpressed and all the words unspoken, that’s where they go,” I mused half to him, half to myself.

So here I sit at my keyboard trying to get some of it out.

It’s been over two years since I realized that pursuing pregnancy in my 40’s was unwise. A decision that was backed up by my body presenting me with an autoimmune-based arthritis over a year later. But even now the emptiness I feel because of not being able to be a “mom,” still brings me to my knees unexpectedly. I thought I’d be stronger. I thought I’d find a surrogate that could fill the baby-shaped hole in my heart. Something that could lighten the weight of my empty arms. But it’s still there.

I feel alone in this. While my husband understands, there is a part of him that cannot possibly understand because he has children.

Recently, friends of ours who have battled infertility for years found something that worked and are expecting a child early next year. I’m thrilled for them, but also feeling left behind. They’ve crossed over.

Another friend, a former sister-in-arms, is now on baby number three and is now doing everything she swore she wouldn’t when she was struggling.

And to add to that, another younger couple in our small group of intimates just announced their pregnancy.

Smash, Bang, Boom… all sorts of unresolved grief has now just made it’s presence known in a BIG way. Everyone is crossing over and I feel isolated and alone.

For the past two years I have been fighting against it. Trying to turn the lemons into lemonade. Trying to find a source of fulfillment. Trying to give back. Trying to re-channel my grief… and failing. Throwing energy into church. Throwing way too much energy into work. Trying to financially hold my family together. Encouraging Hubs to get this parenting act together. Some of this is done out of necessity, some out of hope, and some out of sheer desperation. But I’m coming to a breaking point. I’m tired. And I’m angry. I want to disappear.

It occurs to me that I don’t even have a sense of me any more. Where did I go? Did I miss something? Was I too concerned that my grief was so prolonged that I tried to bypass acceptance completely? Or is my grief, anger and pain about this a security blanket?

All I know is this: something is missing in my heart. I watch friends who are moms interacting with their children and my arms ache to hold the children I’ve lost. I see my pregnant friends in celebration, doing all the things I dreamed of doing when I first found out I was pregnant, and I yearn to have that experience. I see my MIL gush with pride over my two-year-old nephew and I feel so disconnected from that side of the family, because I couldn’t give her a grandchild. I see my Skid acting so distant from me, and wonder if I had been able to give him a brother or a sister if it would have made us feel more connected to each other.

I’m left wondering if this ever goes away. Wondering that if in my mad scramble not to become the woman who holds onto to her grief too long, I’ve in reality prolonged this. All I know is that I cannot stand it anymore. I’m tired of falling apart every time someone announces a pregnancy. (Yeah, I’m looking at you Kate Middleton.)

I need to step away from trying to find fulfillment in helping others and start helping myself. It’s like the drill you hear before take off. I need to put my air mask on first before I can assist others.

Last week I was having one of those bad days. Not so much in that my day was riddled with a series of unfortunate incidents that would someday become an amusing anecdote. It was bad day because of state of my mind and heart.
I was worried that Skid had been making some very bad decisions, ones that could effect our family. I was hurting for Hubs, because he was agonizing over how best to correct things. I was concerned for family members hundreds of miles away who had just experienced one death in the family and were now facing another. I was stressed about my job as organizational changes were causing a ripple of job eliminations. I felt conflicted because some dear friends of ours started their first round of IUI. While I was happy and hopeful for them, the baby-shaped space in my heart made itself heard as well.

It was a lot of weight; I had very little muscle to move it. It was enough to make me want to lay my head on my desk and give up. But I didn’t. Instead, I directed it elsewhere.

I donated money that would allow a child in foster care to have a nice present and cake on his birthday. I sent encouraging cards to my far away relatives. I extended a helping hand to coworker who was struggling with a problem. I smiled at the cashier at the drug store. I gave grace even when I could find none for myself and my burden began to feel lighter. It wasn’t going away. I still have to deal with stresses, but they felt a lot less cumbersome.

This I feel is the essence of Christianity. Knowing the feeling of peace and the power of grace and, instead of just hoarding it for yourself, passing it on. Putting yourself aside and reaching out others whose needs are greater than yours.
Any bad day pales in comparison to the Biblical accounts of the crucifixion of Christ. He had been beaten, mocked, had a crown thorns thrust upon his head, and nails were driven into his nails in his hands and feet, and the Roman soldiers were gambling for the remnants of his clothing. That’s a bad day right there! But even in the midst of all this, Jesus still found the love and compassion ask for forgiveness of his tormentors and reassure the repentant thief that was crucified beside him. He remained true to his purpose: to extend God’s grace to mankind.

Just think for a moment about your worst day ever and how you may have acted. Then think about yourself in that situation. How many of us would have cursed the soldiers How many would have told the thief “I’m kinda having a bad day here. Don’t really have it in me to deal with your problem today. Can you give me some space?”

I’m far from perfect. In fact, if I had a quarter for every time I rolled my eyes at someone in public, I wouldn’t have to worry about my job! But I’d like to change. I’d like to get to point where grace becomes a permanent part of my mindset. Where I could remember put my burden down in order to help another with his.

I don’t think that Christianity is closed-system. It’s not simply about my relationship with God. It’s how that relationship extends beyond me. Isn’t that what Christ’s example is really all about?

So today, as I my concerns and troubles continue to mount, I need to ask myself what can I do to help someone else with theirs?

Oh my goodness! What a crazy morning this has been. And when I received a nice little pick me up, I went to share it. Then (Cue the Jaws soundtrack) Wordpress when crazy on me this morning and posted and posted and posted some more! AAACCCCKKK!

I did not mean to blast you with repeated messages this morning! Please forgive me for of the bombardment. All the extra posts were deleted, but I can’t retract all the emails that have been sent out. (Sigh) No good deed goes unpunished!

I realize that it has been awhile since I regularly posted here. August was a weird, emotionally “bouncy” month. I’ve had to take time to process how I’ve been feeling as well as distract my mind with other topics.

Today’s Thankful Thursday is in remembrance of an important day, and anticipation of a much needed respite.

Four Years –

11 years ago today, I married K. I only was granted four years of marriage to him, but they were four great years. We both had good jobs and a quaint little home in an 40’s bungalow. We enjoyed travelling together, and enjoyed exploring wineries and breweries and were just as comfortable dining at dives as well as fine restaurants. We ate dinner every night in our dining room with the television on in the other room, so we could answer the questions on “Jeopardy!” while we discussed our days. K was hesitant to have children because of his limited physical abilities and heart condition, but we were still open to adoption if we ever had the resources. But overall, we were pretty content.

I’ll admit that there are days I long to go back to that time. Those days were not always perfect, but they were happy ones, even at the end when trips to the ER became an almost bi-weekly event. I am extremely grateful that had those years with K, and today is special reminder of those years.

Four Days –

The girls are coming! Yes. We’ve made it happen – the second annual girls weekend is next week! The three crazy broads are back! Last time we got together, I laughed harder than I had in long time. I really need this weekend to shake off the pressure that has been placed on me by others expectations of me recently. These girls are scattered across the map, so I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like. So I’m taking advantage of my time with them. Every woman needs time like this with her girls.